


Slaves of Mirkwood

by ravensilverwing



Category: Lord of the Rings - Tolkien
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Slash, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-24
Updated: 2010-02-24
Packaged: 2017-10-07 12:37:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravensilverwing/pseuds/ravensilverwing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by Bound by Blue Gold (http://www.libraryofmoria.com/legolasaragorn/boundbybluegold.txt)</p><p>Mirkwood elves are kept as pleasure slaves and have been bred so that when their ears are touched they are overcome with lust. Haldir steals Legolas away from an abusive Aragorn and promises him pleasure without pain or being lost inside his own lust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slaves of Mirkwood

At first he was wary, disbelieving.  
"Come Legolas, it's alright, I won't hurt you."  
But his face had flickered with the barest hint of distain.

Why doesn't he touch my ears? Does he want me to enjoy his pleasure, my pain? To be open and aware as he hurts me? Or is it merely tease? Making me want his touch on my ears? Wanting me to beg for it, the oblivion where I don't control what my body wants, craves?  
"Legolas?" Softest whisper.  
I'll beg if he asks it of me, anything than being aware during the pain.  
His hand skirting the worst of the bruises from Aragorn's last beating.  
Finally he stops with the gentle kisses up my neck, over my shoulder. Slowly he rears back. I wait for the strike. But it doesn't come. He pauses; face hovering above mine, eyes gazing down at me. His fingers rise up to stroke my cheek. Soft, so soft. I don't trust it. It's merely the calm before the rage, the storm.  
His voice is gentle, soft.  
"I promised you pleasure."  
I just blink at him, waiting for the pain.  
"Legolas?" Unsure. "Do you not like my kisses?"   
He's frowning, I blink. I must tell him whatever he wants to hear, whatever will make him stop with this charade and get things over and done with.  
I nod.

His eyes close briefly, I can't seem to control the tensing of my muscles in preparation for the blows that will follow. But his eyes open, startled, not striking out at me, not causing pain, if anything in pain. Perhaps he needs this to perform. Perhaps he does not like unwilling partners. Then why does he not touch my ears? Then I will be more than willing for him. For anything, anyone.

"Legolas."   
My name a breath over his lips, teasing over mine. He looks sad and I can't control the frown, my puzzlement. The back of his hand strokes over my cheek so softly, almost…no it is a caress. My frown deepens and he starts to lean forward bring his lips to hover over mine but he stops at the first touch. A moment of ghosted breath and he pulls back.  
"I want to show you pleasure, I want you to feel it." Voice so sweet.  
Perhaps he is mad. Gone crazy for lack of elf kind touch.  
"Legolas?" unsure.  
Blink up at him; try to focus on his eyes but mine dip to his lips, ghosting breath over mine again.  
"Do you like my kisses?" Voice so soft again.  
Nod uncomprehending. I'm not supposed to enjoy his kisses without the haze of lust that touching my ears induces.

His lips fall gently on my neck again, tracing invisible paths up and down, over, around my throat, my shoulders and my breath begins to quicken. His palm tilts my jaw and those lips, soft like silk fall on my lips. A sigh, half gasp as his tongue plays over them, gently, softly, coaxing them to part and I let him, let them part for him, the quick dart of his tongue. A flicker, nothing more then pulling away again, letting my lips seal before he starts all over. Another sigh-gasp of surprise as his tongue flicks deeper, seeking mine then away before I've had time or chance to respond.

My hands have balled into the sheets beneath us, his have stayed resting on my shoulders, delicate touches over my throat the soft, sensitive skin behind my ears but he is so careful not to touch them.

Kiss after kiss, all of them soft and flickering, pulling away then delving back in, flowing into one another. Then stopped. Tense again without conscious thought. His breath ghosts over my mouth but he doesn't pull away, doesn't rear back to strike. If anything his body leans closer, not yet touching me, pinning me to the bed. But his hands are moving, his weight on his knees, hovering above me, so close yet not looming, not touching, not pinning, not hurting. Just resting there, hovering. Not even over me, beside me. So careful.

His hands have reached my elbows, tracing formless patterns there before proceeding down to my fisting hands. His touch is light, still ever so careful as he slides fingers into my fists, across my palms, opening my hands. His eyes waver into focus as he pulls away a little. A pause, another quick, soft kiss then he shifts, moves over me, one knee sliding between mine to get closer, forcing my legs to part further for him.  
"Legolas I don't want to hurt you." Eyes imploring.  
I spread my legs for him, turn my face to the wall.

He jolts, releases my hand and his fingers are on my cheek again, palm turning my jaw line to him. Shock, his head shaking.  
"No. No not like that." Feverant whisper. "I just want to get closer. So you can touch me, you can touch me."  
But I don't want to touch him, I just want this over with, everyone else just takes, it's quick, over quickly, not this drawn out torture.  
"Oh Legolas." So soft, sadness again, his fingers caressing my cheek before he kisses the corner of my mouth, my other cheek. "I only meant if you wanted too, you don't have to but you could, if you did, I just wanted to get closer for you."  
Frown. For me? What on earth does he mean? For me?

Then he surprises me, says the most unexpected thing.  
"If I touch you, hurt you, you can push me away if your hands are on me. You can make me stop if I do something that doesn't pleasure you."  
Pleasure me? He really must be mad. How long it must have been since he's had elf kind touch if he's willing to take me, try to pleasure me. No wonder he stole me away from Aragorn.

Soft, sad.  
"You don't understand do you?"  
Shake my head because I don't. Don't understand what he wants. Don't understand why he looks so sad. He's quiet awhile, quiet and still, his hands not moving then as if he's surprised he starts to move again, breaking the stillness. His hands an apology for his silence as he caresses my cheek again, the back of his hand stroking so softly.  
"You're beautiful."  
I only blink. For I've been told that many of times and wish I hadn't been this way, perhaps then I might have…sigh…but it does no good to wonder what if, it is and it is done, has been done for 60 years now.   
"I am sorry." Barely a whisper, a soft but slower kiss. His tongue staying, seeking, stroking mine but yet so carefully.  
His other hand holds mine, not down, not up, not pinned. Just held, gently in his.

Finally he finishes, pulls away, looks deep into my eyes, searching, looking for something but I don't know what. I just stare back at him, blinking even if I am a little unfocussed. His kisses really are sweet, soft, pleasurable. Aragorn never graced me with kisses such as these. His were always harsh, hot, demanding and rough. He smiles this time as he pulls away, relaxes his hips against the bed beside me, one leg draped over my hip, thigh pressed between mine, holding mine open for him. He released my other hand to rest on his arm, still looking down at me, so close yet not from above, from beside now. He pulls me a little, gentle little tugs, coaxing me closer, almost onto my side but I won't turn into him, won't let him pull me that close, not with his thigh pressing me open like this.

He acquiests. Inclines his head to me. Feel the urge and give into it, reach up and run my fingers through his hair. He starts, jerks suddenly, just a little then he stills, doesn't pull away. Rub my fingers over the silken strands, touching…just touching, as I haven't done in centuries and I haven't done ever before. Never like this. His eyes roll up to stare at me, mouth soft and smiling. My fingertips drift over his cheek, down his smooth skin, skin like marble, porcelain, sleek but so soft. So, so soft. Warm.   
"Legolas." His words over my mouth. "May I kiss you?"  
Breathless.  
"Yes."  
And he's firmer this time, tongue tangling alongside mine, stroking, pulling soft noises of…of…pleasure? The softest whimper. I've never felt, I'm not supposed to…But his kisses continue, one after the other. Soft and teasing now, and pleasure. So much pleasure.

I feel his hand as it slides down my neck, his fingertips trailing another type of pleasure. Moan so softly into his mouth and he continues to stroke me, thumb dipping down into the hollow of my throat, rubbing there but so softly, pulling another moan from me. Surprised this time for I never knew his hands could feel so good just smoothing over my skin.  
"Legolas." Sweet and gentle, breathy between caressing kisses.  
"Haldir." Tasting his name this time.   
He groans, turns his mouth away from me, buries kisses against my neck. I freeze.   
"No Legolas." Soft breath in my ear. "Say it again." Half pleading.  
"Haldir." But it sounds flat this time, tense.  
His hand strokes lightly over my shoulder.  
"Thank you."  
Why? What for? Did he think I'd forgotten his name?   
"Do you want me to kiss you?" so quiet.  
Bite my lip. I do. I do want more of his kisses. I shouldn't…but I do. Nod slowly.

He doesn't kiss me straight away, just leans over my mouth, looking down into me, his hand back to stroking that dip at the base of my neck pulling a sigh from my lips. It's only then that his lips fall on mine but his tongue doesn't slip forward it's his teeth then suction, pulling my bottom lip into him causing my startled gasp. Soft strokes of his tongue and his teeth are forgotten but I'm reaching out, pulling him into me taking his lip and sucking him inside of me, feeling his surprise and letting my eyes open. Shocked, wide eyes staring back then glazing as I suck hard, sucking moans from his mouth to mine. His eyes glide shut and I let his lip slide from inside of me, let him slip away for a moment before opening my eyes to stare over at him.

He's smiling, softly but bright. Pleased.   
"Can I kiss you here?" his thumb tracing over that sensitive hollow. "Do you think you'll like that?"  
I don't know. I've never felt this way before. Don't have time to think before his mouth slips over me, slides down to the dipped spot. Then lips, flash of tongue but mainly lips, sweetest caress and I groan, arch into him, hips hitching up, rolling over his thigh and suddenly there's stars, aching. Another flash of tongue and I'm groaning, clutching at darkness, hair, anything to quell the desperate…something.

Soft slide of teeth and his thigh rocks. Crying out, breathless. Hair, his hair so slick, silk. Can't…can't think…can't breathe…killing me…he's going to kill me. Gasp desperate, my hips rolling into his leg, moving…arch. Open my hand to catch his shoulder, push lightly, push him away.

Come back to myself and he's holding me, not stroking ,not kissing just holding, hip half over mine now, pushing me down into the bed but…but not pinning me down into it. Move, shift, try to push him away, pull myself away.  
"Shh, Legolas lie still. Please, just lie still for now, wait a moment."  
Breathe, breathe, I can't breathe. He shifts further away, his shoulder just brushing mine now, no longer hovering over me, but his thigh still between mine, still holding me here.  
Always holding me here. Always held where I don't want to be. Never any choice. Never any choice for me, just a slave. Stupid slave of Mirkwood.

"Legolas…Legolas?" quiet, gentle. "How do you feel?"  
"I…can't breathe."  
"You want to leave." A statement, not a question. "Just lie still for me, please, just for a minute. If you want to go in a minute you can."  
"But you…"stare at him confused.  
Voice soft.  
"Just lie still, please Legolas, just for a minute."  
And he's stroking again, palm to cheek then the back of his hand, gently and it's sweet, like him and I start to relax again.  
"Good." Soft, still stroking. "See it's alright, do you like the pleasure?"  
Frown unsure. My eyes flicker down to his mouth, his lips slightly parted, tongue flashes out to wet them. Swallow hard.   
"You liked my kisses."  
Nod but it's not a question.  
"Do you want more?"  
Frown. More of what exactly? Kisses? Kisses…yes, I want more kisses. Want more…but more of what? More of that…something. I like that something, the something was good, was pleasure but…more than pleasure. Yes I want more than pleasure. Yes I want more.   
I nod.

He nods solemnly.   
"If more hurts…do you still want more?"  
Start, frown, blink. Hurt? He's going to hurt me? He said he wouldn't hurt me. Said he…pleasure, that's what he said. Not hurt. Not pain. He must see the fear.  
"Sometimes pleasure hurts a little, not pain but…hurts, aches."  
Staring at me, trying to explain but I don't understand. He sighs but then his hand slips down, over my naked chest. Gasp as he pinches a nipple, flare of pleasure but…Look up into his eyes.  
"It felt good?" A question.  
Nod bewildered.  
"Did it hurt?" also a question.  
Cover my nipple with my hand.  
"Yes."  
"But it felt good as well, the hurt was pleasure too."  
"Yes."  
Soft, stroking fingers.  
"Other things may hurt but…only for pleasure."

Swallow and stare at him, trying to understand. Is he going to hurt me, cause pain or hurt me for pleasure, my pleasure. Is it my pleasure or his?   
"I just want to show you pleasure." Tender. "Without your ears, without the haze. You pushed me away, and I stopped, I'll always stop."  
Nod slowly. He'll stop, if I want him to stop, he'll stop. But still it might hurt. Will he enjoy the hurt.  
"Do you…like…pain?"  
A blush. That feels strange, to see him blush. I watch as he swallows, suddenly appearing nervous for the first time. A blink and he's almost shy.  
"A little." Very soft. "There are some times, some types of pain that I like but not…" his eyes go a little wide. "Not…not in other people. I don't like watching other people in pain."

Lean forward a little and watch his eyes go wide. Hot breath ghosting, then lips, silky, soft. Part my lips for him and feel his tongue dart forward, just a brush then stroking, tangling. His fingers curl, caress my cheek, pulling me closer. I let my fingers slide through the silk expanse of his hair, touching, learning stopping at his shoulder and pausing.

Ghosting breath again.  
"You can touch."  
My fingers tangle in his hair, all grace lost in confusion. Why would he want my touch? At least…to touch him like this, not…My hand slides downwards, reaches his belt before his hand on my wrist stops the touch. I'm tense before I can even begin to think why he wouldn't want me to touch him, bring him. Feel his thumb stroke over the softest skin of my wrist.   
"Legolas." So soft, sad again.  
Why does he sound so sad? Sad about what? Why do my actions make him sad? He lets my wrist go to touch my jaw, just the barest tips of his fingers, coaxing. Carefully I look up at him.  
"Legolas." So quiet, so soft. "There are other ways to touching."  
Startled.  
"You do not like…?"  
A sigh now.  
"I like the touch of your hands, of your mouth."  
Does he mean my mouth, on him? He would prefer my mouth and not my hands? Is that what he wants? Where, how he wants me to touch him? Frown at him, lost, confused.  
Another sigh. Another kiss. So very, very soft. Just the faintest hint of his tongue and I mourn it. I like his tongue, I like those kisses.

A frown, he's puzzled.  
"Legolas?"  
I can't explain to him, his kisses, that pleasure. I want more of it, he's ruined me I won't be able to go back to ears now, not back to ears ever. I just want more, just want more kisses. More of him, more pleasure. But I want to understand what he's doing. Why he's doing this. What he wants from me. Because someone will always want something from me. Nothing…this can't come for free, without a price. So I can't ask, can't want, but I do want, I start to crave. Kisses. I just want more kisses.

He strokes the skin of my shoulder, carefully up over my jaw. Touching my jaw, my cheek so softly. I can only stare at him, wanting, craving. I'm destroyed. He's destroyed me. I want to weep but he won't…I do not want to anger him. Weeping has no place here.  
"Speak. Tell me what is wrong."   
His hands starting to caress me, his body shifting, moving further away, then closer. He slides down onto me, pressing closer and I gasp. His hip, his thigh. Swallow hard and turn away, stare off over onto the wall. I am shamed. He does not speak again, his hands have gone still but I feel his breath ghost over my cheek. Then his lips, so soft trailing down, my breath fluttering out, pulse racing under his mouth. His hand comes back to stroke over my shoulder, soft little traces, pathways over the joint then up into my hair, back again.  
My hands are clutching at silk, his hair, unsure where to move, what to do, where to go. What should I be doing? There is no pain, no strike, no harsh words. Nothing. Just lips and…Feel my eyes go wide, even as my breath gasps in a rush, fingers clutching, curling in his hair. Pleasure. His lips, his mouth, the graze of his teeth. I moan. Out loud into the silence and I don't know how to remain still. My hips hitching up and aching, something, I can't control it…this…this.  
"Legolas?" my name breathed over the moist skin of that sweet dip in my throat.  
I tremble, my body unable to remain still any longer.   
"Do you like this?" gentle.  
I can barely breathe.  
"Yes…yes…please."  
He lips caress the skin again then a flicker of tongue, my hips twitching upwards. My voice crying out, whimpering. His teeth glide over me and I ache. Something…something is growing, even as his hand caresses down. Slipping from my shoulder, my neck, stroking over the damp skin, making me arch into him, moan desperately.

Soft touching at my chest now, skirting bruises to find tiny centers of…more…more something. Yet gentle this time, not pinching, not causing hurt, just gentle, stroking over them. His lips travel up my neck slowly, softly breathing kisses till he reaches my mouth, lips already parted, waiting for him, wanting him. His fingertips pinch and I gasp, lips falling further open, tongue flicking over them wanting. Wanting him to kiss me, wanting to feel his tongue, wanting it stroking me, stroking mine. Wanting it. Another delicate pinch and my hips rise, rock, rub and finally his lips drop.

Desire. That's what this is. Not want, not need but desire. I have never, I've never, never wanted, just needed. The pain or the release but never this. Never this desire. Wanting him to touch me, wanting him to…Pant into our kiss, tongue tangling, struggling, stroking, wanting his. His thigh relaxes, hip falling and he wants this too. Enjoys these kisses just as I do. Desiring my pleasure. Is that what he wanted all along? Has he just…simply desired my pleasure. His body enjoys this yet strangely he pulls away.

"Legolas."   
Eyes bright, pleased.  
"Does it feel good?"  
I nod. Pull him back to me, part my lips for him and flash my tongue out over his. Darting, teasing, taunting him to chase me. Feel his smile, taste it as we kiss again. Again. Kisses flowing together again, losing myself inside them, inside his mouth, beyond his parted lips. Lips like silk and cream, so soft. Tasting him, tasting his sweetness, his warmth, his gasps of surprise and his moan of pleasure as I seek him out, tease along his tongue, beckon him, desire him.

His hips roll into mine and he gasps, wrenching away from our kiss, panting on air even as I sigh breathless. His hands over my shoulders, over my chest, stroking at nipples causing my hips to rock restlessly against his thigh.   
"Oh Lord…Lord and Lady Legolas." Gasping kisses, so close to my ears and I tense.   
I don't want that, don't want him to. My ears, my ears, he's too close, his whispered words panting into them, not touching but so close. Too close, he's too close. One shift, one move and I'll be lost. I'll be craving and needing and not wanting, not desiring. Just desperate and not thinking. But please…no…no. Please not that.

But I have to. I must submit. If that is what he wants, and that is what he must do for me to respond the way he wishes then I have no choice. I must submit to him, to myself, my every animal craving.

I'm clutching at his hair, ready to beg. I'll beg for him, that I'll do anything. Anything he wants for him to not do that. Not touch me there, turn me into an unthinking animal. I don't want that, I just want this. This something, this desire. I want him. But not like that. I don't want that.

"Legolas?" pulling away, easing into my grip on his hair, letting me feel it slide through my hands, over my fingertips. So beautiful.   
"Haldir." My voice strangled, staring up into his eyes, pleading, desperate. "Please…please don't."  
Shock, he's frowning, not understanding. Not angry. Not striking. Not hurting or lashing out with fist or teeth or legs. Then dawning, glancing over to my ears.  
"I would never. I won't ever. I promise Legolas." Voice softer, so quiet, a bare whisper. "I won't."  
"So close."  
He kisses my eyes closed. Breathing soft and light, lighter than ghosting.  
"I'm sorry."

My hand touches his shoulder. Suddenly he's tense. Try to open my eyes but his lips still rest over the right one. Slide fingertips under his tunic, over his flesh, his shoulder. Skin so warm, so smooth, so hairless. So elf. Tilt my head and kiss his jaw. This time when he looks down he smiles, soft and bright and triumphant.


End file.
